I can almost see the silhouette of a trench-coated man on a seedy street corner when I read this one... How 'bout you?
by Kevin Young
I didn't have a rat's chance.
Soon as she walked in in
That skin of hers
violins began. You could half hear
The typewriters jabber
as she jawed on: fee, find, me,
poor, please.
Shadows & smiles, she was.
Strong scent of before-rain
Her pinstripe two-lane
legs, her blackmail menthol.
She had all the negatives
Hidden safe
and would not reveal the place.
Before you could say
denouement, I was on her case--
Slant hat, broad
back, my entrenched coat
Of fog. Fleabags,
neon blinds withdrawn--
The foreshadows fell on her face.
All night I tailed, stalked
the joint. Found
Her with the butler
playing patty-cake.
Baker's man. She nurse
him like a beer
till dawn. Doozy.
Was from her woozy.
My eyes wet.
Binocular mist.
I took two to the chest
Was all
rain, her blurring face
Her snuffed, stubbed-out
lipstick cigarette.
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